The Valentine's Bet
by Racing Capybaras
Summary: McGee has a week to find a date who can leave Tony speechless.
1. The Bet

**This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic. I'm still not entirely satisfied with some things, but I want to post it on schedule.**

**Any comments/opinions about Valentine's Day aren't meant to be offensive. They're just what I can see each character thinking about it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, CBS does.**

* * *

Monday

The holiday season had passed, and the tinsel and mistletoe had been taken down. The attention of the city had been shifted to the next upcoming holiday-Valentine's Day. NCIS was no different. Since the beginning of February, small reminders of the romantic day had slowly begun popping up around the office. There were fresh roses in the break room and red and pink paper hearts hanging all around the building. The overall effect was putting some people in the mood for love, while it made others gag.

NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee sat at his desk listening to Tony talk about his date. The other man was droning on and on about how much he had impressed his current girlfriend. According to him, she a gorgeous grade school teacher who also modeled on the side. McGee wasn't sure though. He might have her mixed up with the pilates-loving masseuse from last week. It was hard to keep all of Tony's girlfriends straight. He was getting tired of listening to him rave about his exploits with women who all seemed the same.

McGee continued nodding to Tony as he slowly let his eyes drift down to his computer screen. He needed to finish a chapter of his latest book for his publisher, and Tony's talking was distracting him.

"Hey, Probie, are you listening to me?" Tony demanded.

"Mmmmhmmmm." McGee mumbled in Tony's direction.

"Then what did I just say?"

McGee glared at Tony. "That you took her to that French restaurant downtown and then back to your place?"

"Wrong, McLiar. I said that I took her to the _Indian_ place, then back to my apartment." Tony looked down. McGee was already back at his computer screen. Tony covered the screen with his hand. "Maybe you should pay a little bit more attention to what I'm saying. You might pick up some tips to help you with your own love life."

McGee sighed and looked up at Tony. "Look," he began, "I really, really don't care what you and your new girlfriend did last night. I am not living vicariously through you. And my love life is just fine without your tips."

"Really?" Questioned Tony. "Then you don't mind me asking what your plans are for Valentine's Day?"

McGee stared blankly up at Tony.

"You know, Valentine's Day, February 14th, a holiday dedicated to love, flowers, chocolates and tacky cards? The night when men take their wives and girlfriends to expensive restaurants in the hopes that they'll get laid later?"

"I know what it is, Tony." McGee snapped back. "I don't have any plans, and if I did I wouldn't tell you about them."

Tony held his hands up and backed away from McGee's desk. "Whoa, didn't mean to upset you there McLifeless. I was just asking."

"Well, don't ask again." McGee replied. "To be honest, I've never really gotten into Valentine's Day that much. It's a day over-commercialized by card companies to sell massive amounts of crap. It's just not my thing."

"Maybe having a special Valentine's _night_ would make you change your mind." Tony suggested, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Whatever." McGee said, returning to his story.

"Well, just because you're a party pooper doesn't mean that I have to be too." Tony declared. "Anyway," he continued, "I've got the whole thing planned out. First I'm going to take the girl, Teresa, to the Japanese place downtown where they prepare the food right in front of you. Then I'm going to get a limo to pick us up and take us to the romantic film festival. Then back to my place for champagne, a massage and-"

McGee snapped. He had had it listening to stories about Tony's seemingly amazing personal life. It was time to make a change.

"You know what, Tony," McGee said as he slowly rose from his chair. "I don't need to know how good your date will be, because I'm going to go on one of my own."

"Oh, Really, Probie." Tony smirked.

"Yes, Tony, really."

"So what's her name?"

"Her name?" McGee spluttered. "Her name is…well I don't know yet but I will soon. And once you meet her you're going to be so impressed that you'll..you'll…"

"I'll what, McStutters?" Tony tormented. "I'll be so impressed that I'll do what? Spit it out."

McGee looked around frantically as he tried to think of a way to follow up on his bet. Nothing was coming to him. "You'll be so amazed with who I managed to get a date with that you'll stop telling me about yours." McGee finished lamely. "And, you'll do my paperwork for a month."

Tony cocked his eyebrow at McGee as he considered his offer. "Sold. You bring this amazing mystery woman on my Valentine's Day date with Teresa and we'll see how impressed I am."

"Good." McGee said, sitting back down at his desk. "See you in a week."

"It's a date." Tony replied.

* * *

Ziva watched the situation unfold from her desk and shook her head. Tony and McGee really needed to grow up. She sighed as she watched Tony walk back to his desk confidently and McGee panic silently as if he had just realized what he had agreed to. It was going to an interesting week…

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**What did you think? If you have any suggestions/ideas or spelling/grammar problems, please leave it in a review.**


	2. Teresa

Tuesday

V-6 Days

The next day, McGee sat at his desk, still working on his story. He had to get it in to his publisher soon or risk losing his contract.

It was no use-he couldn't concentrate. All he could think about was what he had agreed to the day before.

He honestly couldn't believe himself. Had he really agreed to find a woman that would make Tony jealous? Tony had dated half the women in the city. It was nearly impossible for a woman to hold his interest, much less any women that McGee himself would feel comfortable asking out and going on a date with. How could he have been so stupid?

Tony wasn't making it any easier. He had spent the entire morning throwing rude or suggestive notes at McGee's desk. McGee was determined not to let it show that he was intimidated, but Tony was starting to get to him.

"Excuse me."

McGee looked up. Standing in front of him was one of the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. She was tall and had long dark hair that flowed over her shoulders. Her bright green eyes matched the pendent on her necklace that led the eyes downwards to her impressive cleavage. Her legs seemed to go on for miles below her skirt.

And she was staring right at McGee.

"I'm looking for Special Agent Tony DiNozzo." The woman continued, revealing perfectly white, straight teeth. "Do you know where I can find him?"

"I- I- I-" McGee stammered, trying to remember how to speak.

The woman looked at him expectantly.

"He's, um, he's not here right now. He should be back in a few minutes." McGee finally managed to get out.

"That's fine. Do you mind if I wait here for him?" She asked as she sat down on the corner of McGee's desk. Then, looking back at McGee, asked, "Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

McGee was definitely not alright. Just looking at her was enough to make him start sweating. Speaking in full sentences had proved nearly impossible. And now that she was sitting on his desk he had an even better view of her…no, he was definitely not alright.

"Teresa! Hey! I thought that we were going out later. Couldn't resist the DiNozzo charm, huh?" Tony exclaimed as he made his way from the elevator.

McGee watched with his mouth wide open in shock as Teresa rose off his desk and kissed Tony on the cheek. _That_ was Teresa? Tony's Teresa?

"Excuse us for a minute." Tony wrapped an arm around Teresa and pulled her into a more private area. He winked at McGee as he turned the corner.

"McGee?" Ziva questioned. "Are you sure that you are all right. You do look a little pale. And you are drooling a bit."

McGee snapped his head up at Ziva. She was right. He was drooling, and there were still beads of sweat on his forehead. He wiped his mouth and forehead on the corner of his sleeve and turned back to his computer.

Tony sauntered back in from where ever he had been with Teresa. He looked at McGee and smirked. "Jealous, McDateless? Or should I say nervous, since you're going to be doing my paperwork for quite some time?"

"Neither, Tony. I'm just thinking."

"Oh? Thinking about how you'll never be able to find a woman hotter than Teresa by Valentine's Day?" Tony said as he sat down on the corner of McGee's desk that had previously been occupied by Teresa. Tony tilted his head backwards toward McGee. "You know, Probie, there's nothing wrong with giving up now. Sure, it's a bit early but it'll save you all the embarrassment of…"

He paused, sure that Gibbs was behind. Which, of course, he was.

Tony looked up at Gibbs who had snuck up behind them. Gibbs put his coffee down on the desk, reached forward, and smacked both of his agents on the backs of their heads.

"That," Gibbs said to Tony before the other man could say anything, "is for bringing a date to the office. And taking work time to talk to her." Then, turning to McGee, said, "And that's for staring at Tony's girlfriend like she's a piece of meat."

"Ah, Boss, but she is. And of the very finest cut, I might add." Tony cut in.

Gibbs glared at him. "Go back to work. All of you."

"Yes, Boss. Going, Boss." Tony said as he scampered over to his desk.

McGee turned his attention back to his computer and sighed. How was he ever going to find a woman to make Tony jealous now? Teresa was stunning. He couldn't even imagine himself even talking to a woman that gorgeous, especially after experiencing the effects of being around Teresa.

"McGee. Stop squirming and get back to work."

"Yes, Boss." McGee sighed. He did have a lot of work to do, but he was too anxious to concentrate.

It looked like finding a date was going to be a lot harder than he had thought. He was going to have to start looking. Tonight.


	3. Gibbs

**So far I've been getting pretty positive responses to this story. And, I've also managed to keep posting everyday. Let's hope that I can keep it up.**

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Wednesday

V-5 Days

"McGee, where's that report? Vance wants it." Gibbs bellowed as he stormed into the bullpen. "C'mon. Hand it over."

"Huh?" McGee said as he raised his head from his desk. He was drawing a blank. "What report?"

Gibbs glared at McGee as the younger agent desperately tried to remember what his boss was referring to. Nothing came to mind. McGee wasn't surprised at all. He was exhausted. He had spent last night at a club, looking for a Valentine's Day date. So far, he hadn't found anyone. There had been plenty of attractive woman, but not very many who would make Tony jealous. The few who did make that cut were, well, intimidating. McGee didn't feel comfortable talking to them, much less asking them out on a date. It was like Teresa all over again.

McGee was starting to get nervous. He wasn't getting any closer to finding a date, let alone a date as gorgeous as Teresa. He hated to admit it, but it looked like he might have to start asking for advice.

He finally ended up shaking his head."I don't know what you're talking about, Boss. I haven't written any reports since last week."

"Here." Ziva announced from her desk. She rose and handed the papers to Gibbs."I have the report."

"Well at least one of you knows what you're doing." Gibbs said, still glaring at McGee. "I have to speak to Ducky before I give this to Vance. When I get back, I want you two to be working. Hard."

Gibbs threw his coffee in the trashcan and smacked Ziva on the head. "That's for covering for McGee." He said before she could ask. "And as long as you're covering for your coworkers, see if you can find out where the hell DiNozzo is. He's been late all week."

Ziva nodded at Gibbs and went back to her desk to track Tony down.

McGee absently watched Gibbs walk towards the elevator. Then, suddenly, a thought struck him. Gibbs had been married four times. He never seemed to have trouble getting a date when he needed one. Who better to ask for dating advice?

"Hey! Wait!" McGee cried as he ran from his desk to the elevator. "Boss, hold the elevator!"

McGee made it inside just before the doors closed. He briefly mentally congratulated himself on having such a good idea and acting on it so quickly as he pulled the emergency stop on the elevator. Then he turned around to face what looked like a very confused and somewhat pissed off Gibbs.

McGee faltered. Just a few seconds ago this had seemed like a good idea. But now he wasn't so sure.

Gibbs glared at McGee. "What?"

McGee stared blankly back at him.

"You're the one who stopped the elevator. Either you talk or I start this thing back up and go down to Autopsy to see Ducky."

McGee fingered the edge of his jacket nervously. He couldn't believe that he was about to ask this. "Well, Boss, I was just wondering…

Gibbs raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Well, how do you get a date with an attractive woman?" McGee finally blurted out.

Gibbs stared at McGee, then head-slapped him. "You ask them."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm not sure how."

Gibbs shook his head. "I need coffee." He said in exasperation.

"Please, Boss. I could really use the advice, and you don't ever seem to have any trouble in that department, so I thought maybe you could help."

Gibbs stared at McGee like he was a dog who wanted to drive a car. Then, to McGee's great surprise, the older man began to laugh.

"No trouble in the department." Gibbs chortled, shaking his head. "Absolutely no trouble. I've only got four ex-wives and more than twice that many ex-girlfriends to prove it. No, no trouble at all with my love life."

"Still, could you-"

Gibbs shook his head at McGee and turned the elevator back on, chuckling all the while. "I never thought that you were that funny, Elf Lord."

"Please Boss," McGee begged, "If you could please just help me. Really, any advice would be great."

It was no use. Gibbs continued to laugh as the elevator went down. Finally, as it got to the bottom, he spoke again. "If you really want my advice, here it is."

"Thank you, Boss" McGee said eagerly.

"Shut up. I haven't given it to you yet." Gibbs said sharply. His serious tone was a sharp contrast to his uncharacteristic laughter. "Listen closely. Women are more trouble than they're worth. It's damn near impossible to find a good one, and even harder than that to keep her. If I were you, I would just give up on them for a while. Get a new hobby. Put in some overtime. Something to keep your mind off them."

"But, Boss, I kind of need a date for Valentine's Day. And that's only a few days away."

"Well, then, you shouldn't have made a bet with DiNozzo to have a date by then. Don't think I don't know that that's what this is all about."

McGee stared at Gibbs. He really hadn't thought that Gibbs knew about the bet.

Gibbs turned away from McGee to face the elevator doors as they opened. Right before he got out he slapped McGee on the head again. "That's all the advice that you're getting from me."He said as stepped into the hallway. "And never bring up my personal life again. Ever."

With that, Gibbs left and headed for Autopsy, completely ignoring McGee's pleas to stay.

McGee groaned and leaned back against the elevator. His boss thought that he should give up and get a new hobby. This was bad. Even other people didn't have confidence in him. He was going to lose this bet. Badly.

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**Review are amazing. Please leave one.**


	4. Ducky

Day 4 (Thursday)

T-4 Days

McGee was exhausted. He had spent another long night looking for a date when he should have been working on his book. He didn't know which was worse; his complete inability to talk to an attractive woman without making himself look like an idiot or his writer's block.

He staggered into Autopsy to find Ducky. Gibbs wanted to know whether any progress with identifying the body from their latest case had been made. "Ducky? Are you here?"

McGee stood in the middle of the room and looked around. Everything was perfectly in its place. The room was clean and shiny, all white tiles and lights and stainless steel. The overall bright effect made him feel drowsy.

"Yes, yes, Timothy, I'm here." Came Ducky's voice. "Just hold on a minute, would you?"

McGee nodded to himself and tried to keep his eyes open.

Ducky walked into the room from one of the storage closets. "Good afternoon, Timothy."

"Hmm?" McGee mumbled. He glanced down at his watch. "I guess it is afternoon. I didn't notice. I'm just so tired."

"Yes, you do seem to be a little off from your normal self. I thought that it was just the sight of Corporal Wayne, here."

McGee looked down. He was so tired that he hadn't even noticed the body lying on the autopsy table. Or, rather, what was left of the body. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. How had he not noticed that before?

Ducky gazed down at the body. "He is a bit gruesome, isn't he?"

"Yes, he definitely is." McGee agreed, trying to look anywhere but the unfortunate Corporal and the object protruding from his chest. He could feel the drinks from last night and his breakfast from this morning swimming around in his stomach, threatening to come back up. "Have you determined cause of death yet?"

"Not yet." Ducky answered as he walked to the other side of the table. "Mr. Palmer has been helping Abigail, so I'm afraid that this is going to take a bit longer than usual."

"I'll tell Gibbs. He's not going to be happy, though."

"Jethro rarely is. Especially when it comes to a difficult case." Ducky acknowledged while reaching for what looked like a very large pair of pliers. "Is that all, Timothy?"

"Well, no." McGee said slowly. After coming home dateless for the third night in a row, he realized that he was completely desperate. He had promised himself that he would abandon all of his pride and ask everyone who could possibly help for dating advice. Even if all he came up with was 'give up', like what Gibbs had said, it would still be worth it. After all, he couldn't be any worse off than he was already.

"I need help. Advice, actually."

"Oh? What for?"

"This is going to sound stupid, but I may have made a bet with Tony…about Valentine's Day."

"What exactly are the terms of this bet?" Ducky asked as he handed a pair of gloves to McGee. "Here, put these on."

"Well," McGee continued, "I bet him that I would have a date who would impress him so much that he would stop bragging about his to me. And that he would do my paperwork for a month."

"That's quite a tall order. There's quite a chance that it may be nearly impossible." Ducky replied thoughtfully, positioning the pliers above the body. He looked up and saw the disappointment on McGee's face. "No, no not you, Timothy. I have complete confidence that it's possible for you to get a date that will make Anthony turn green with envy. It's just that you're a bit shy."

"Is that bad?" McGee questioned.

"Not necessarily. Hold the pliers like this, there's a good lad."

Ducky sighed an tilted his head back. "So you want my advice of getting a beautiful young woman to accompany you on a Valentine's Day date?"

McGee nodded at Ducky, ready for the advice that was to follow.

"I need a minute to think about it." Ducky continued. "Alright, here we go. Ready."

"Ready for what?" McGee asked in bewilderment.

"To remove what is most likely the murder weapon from our unlucky Corporal. Pull on my mark. One, tw-"

"Ducky, wait!"

"Three!"

Five minutes later, McGee returned from the bathroom, wiping his mouth on a piece of paper towel. Removing the object-which proved to be an arrow with a razor sharp, heart shaped tip- from the marine had been one of the most disgusting things that he had ever done. No wonder Ducky hadn't given him any warning.

Ducky rose from a different table with a mug in his hand."Sit down and drink this."

McGee obediently sat down and drank. The warm liquid immediately began to help with the residual nausea.

Ducky sat down next to him and crossed his arms in his lap. "As I was saying earlier, being shy isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's much better than being presumptuous and overbearing. I've found that woman tend to respect a shy, bashful man much more. "

McGee started to nod but then thought better of it. He was still feeling a little nauseous and didn't want to see his breakfast for a third time that day.

"However," Ducky continued, "the problem with being so bashful is that you tend to have trouble meeting women in the first place. They don't get the chance to make any judgments about you if you never talk to them in the first place. I suggest that you try putting yourself out a little more. Talk, socialize, make merry."

McGee's face fell. This conversation was not going the way that he had hoped. "I've tried to do all those things, Ducky. But whenever I'm about to talk to woman I just freeze up and stand there."

Ducky peered up at McGee. "Maybe you can't. Perhaps you would feel more comfortable if you weren't really yourself… if you were Thom E. Gemcity instead."

McGee had to admit that that wasn't a bad idea. The only problem was that he would still actually have to talk women.

"I'll try that tonight. But I don't think that it'll help much."

"Don't look so glum, Timothy." Ducky said in a comforting tone. "If all else fails, all that will happen is you losing the bet. It's just a bit more paperwork and Anthony talking, well, as much as he does know. At least you won't end up like this fellow." The medical examiner nodded to Corporal Wayne, then to the arrow on the table. "It looks like someone may have used Cupid's bow on him, the poor chap."

McGee, suddenly feeling nauseous again, stood up quickly. "I guess you're right Ducky," he said, trying to hold back the vomit, "there are a lot worse things than losing this bet."

He turned to go and tripped over his own feet, landing face-first onto the autopsy table. The deceased marine was staring at him. McGee groaned and quickly pushed himself away from the table. He was going to puke again.

"Thanks for the advice, Ducky." McGee said as he jogged to the nearest restroom. "I'll definitely try it out."

"You're very welcome, Timothy," Ducky called to the young agent as he sprinted away. Then, turning back to the corpse, finished softly, "but I doubt it will do much good."


	5. Abby & Palmer

**Thanks so much for all the great reviews. Here's another chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

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Friday

V-3 Days

"Timmy!" Abby squealed as McGee entered her lab. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"Yeah, I guess it has been a while." McGee replied dully. He had been purposely avoiding Abby's lab all week. As much as he loved the goth scientist, he didn't think that he could stand to talk to someone as happy as Abby when he was having such little success with his mission. Another day had gone by, and he still didn't have a date.

"What's wrong? You look sad. Did something happen to Jethro?" Abby asked concernedly, referring to McGee's large dog.

McGee smiled in spite of himself. He loved that Abby's first thought about him being depressed was because something had happened to his dog, not because he couldn't get a date.

"Jethro's fine, Abby."

"Good." Abby said firmly, placing a hand on her hip. "So it's not Jethro. And if someone had died or been injured then you would have told me, right?"

McGee nodded. "Definitely."

"Oh! Then it must be the Valentine's Day bet that you made with Tony!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

"It is." McGee frowned. "See, as hard as I try, I just can't seem to get a date. And I've been trying since Tuesday night."

"Don't worry, Timmy, I'm sure that you'll find one."

McGee sighed. "I'm not so sure, Abs." It was the truth. After four days of attempting to get a date, he had lost confidence in himself.

The previous night was the perfect example. He had gone to a swanky bar under his pen name, Thom E. Gemcity. A few women had even approached him while he was there. But, as usual, McGee had managed to make a mess out of it. It was no wonder that he had come home, once again, dateless.

He was so embarrassed that he didn't even want to think about what had happened. But if he was going to tell anybody, it might as well be Abby…

Abby nodded solemnly as McGee filled her in on last night's disasters. "Oh, Timmy!"

"I couldn't help it! Things like that just seemed to happen!"

Abby rolled her eyes in exasperation."Things happen. But comparing a potential date to a dead woman? Did you really expect her to go out with you after that?"

"No, I guess not." McGee sighed dejectedly. The woman had just reminded him so much of Kate. "But I just can't seem to make things like that not happen. I get nervous and then my hands start sweating and I start to lose my grip on my drink and my brain freezes and-"

"Well that explains the second incident." Abby interrupted, referring to how McGee had spilled his drink on one of the women's dresses. "But there's no excuse for comparing that first woman to Kate or knocking the other one down."

"What? What are you talking about?" Palmer asked as he wheeled in a small cart. "Who's getting knocked down."

"No one." McGee answered grouchily. He was beginning to regret coming down to the lab.

Abby gave him a look and turned to face Palmer. "Not no one. Timmy knocked over a woman at a bar last night. He didn't have any luck getting a date and now he's just being cranky."

"I'm not cranky." McGee cut in.

Palmer wheeled the cart to the other side of the lab and began to unload its contents onto the table."For the bet? I heard that you've been having some trouble with that."

McGee moaned internally. The last person who he wanted to know about his dating troubles was Palmer.

"So," Abby continued as she turned to her computer, "I assume that you're here for advice?"

"I guess, yeah. I'll take whatever you've got." McGee said. He had actually just been wandering around the building, looking for some place far away from Tony and his taunting. McGee was under enough pressure as it was without Tony to add to it.

"Well, I think that you should try something a little bit more specific." Abby declared. "Maybe instead of trolling random bars for dates you should just ask out one woman. If she says no, then move on to someone else." She paused for a second, tapping her finger on her chin. "But don't stay there for too long if all you're getting is a bunch of 'no'. That makes you look like a desperate loser."

"Abby," McGee said, staring her in the face, "I am a desperate loser."

"Don't say that. It's only been four days. You still have a few more."

Palmer looked up from the evidence. "I think Abby's partly right. You need to be more specific. But I don't think that asking out women at bars is the way to go."

Abby and McGee both turned to look at him.

"I mean, you definitely need to get a date. But you seem too nervous to get one at a bar. I mean, if you can't get a date there then that's pretty bad. But if you can't even talk to a woman then-"

"Jimmy," Abby interrupted in annoyance, "Timmy needs advice, not a list of all the reasons why he's so bad at this."

"Gee, thanks, Abby." McGee said.

Abby winced. "Sorry."

"Anyway," Palmer continued, "what I mean is that I think that you should ask out someone that you already know. That way you'll be comfortable with talking to her. Then all you have to do is take her out to dinner on Sunday."

McGee raised an eyebrow. That was actually some of the best advice that he'd gotten so far. He was surprised that it had come from Palmer, of all people.

"But he still has to ask her out," Abby pointed out, "and that's part of his problem."

McGee felt himself deflate. This wasn't getting any easier.

"Good point." Palmer said as he wheeled the tray out of the lab. Before he left, he clapped McGee on the shoulder and said, "Good luck. I'm rooting for you, even if most of the money is on DiNozzo."

McGee stared at him as he left the lab. Then he slowly turned back around to face Abby, who was innocently playing with one of her pigtails.

"What does he mean, 'most of the money's on DiNozzo'?"

"Nothing." Abby replied too quickly."You know Palmer. He just says random things that don't mean anything half the time."

"Abby…."

"Oh, okay. If you really want to know, there's kind of a bet about your bet. About who's going to win. The losers buy the winners drinks on Monday."

"And who's winning the bet?" McGee was almost afraid to ask.

"Tony. But I'm sure that more people would bet on you if you were to get a date tonight."

McGee groaned. "Thanks, Abby."

"Good luck!" Abby called to his retreating back. "If you don't get a date, do something to take your mind off of it. Write something, maybe."

McGee stepped into the elevator and groaned. Not only did he not have a date, he still hadn't finished the chapter of his book. He had completely forgotten about it. And to top it off, he had more useless advice and the sympathy of Jimmy Palmer, the Autopsy Gremlin. Things were not looking promising.


	6. Vance

**So far, this is my absolute least favorite chapter of this story. I think it might be because I'm not really comfortable writing as Vance because I don't know his character as well. Still, I tried. And I managed to keep up with my schedule.**

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Saturday

V-2 Days

McGee sat at his desk with his head down, feeling worse than he had all week. He hadn't had a decent night of sleep since making the bet with Tony. All he wanted to do was go home and pass out in his bed. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option when you worked for Gibbs.

Coincidentally, it was Gibbs who had volunteered his team to come in on Saturday to pick up some of the nonexistent slack around the office. He claimed that none of them had been working hard enough lately. He was probably right. Still, because of him, they were all stuck in the office on a Saturday afternoon with nothing to do.

"Cheer up, McGee," Ziva said from across the bullpen, "at least this will all be over by tomorrow. And all the extra hours here gives you more time to finish your chapter."

McGee cracked an eye open and looked back at Ziva. Her comment didn't exactly help, but he didn't want to take out his dating frustrations on her. "Thanks, Ziva. It will be over soon, and I could really use some extra time. Still, being here means spending another day with Tony mocking me for not being as good with women as he is."

As if on cue, Tony emerged from the elevator and made a beeline for McGee's desk. "Morning, McLoser. Did you finally get a date last night?"

McGee sighed. "No, Tony, I didn't get a date. But I still have until tomorrow evening."

"Well, that's not very much time compared to how much you've already had. And remember, if I win, which it looks like I will, then you have to do my paperwork for a month, _and_ there'll be no turning off the DiNozzo replays."

"I know, I know. But I still have until tomorrow."

"You keep saying that, Probie." Tony said as he sat down at his desk. "I made reservations for the old French restaurant downtown. It's the perfect romantic setting to start off a romantic night. Which, of course, you won't really be able to enjoy unless you have a good date. Being a third wheel on Valentine's Day is going to be depressing, not to mention extremely awkward."

McGee glared at Tony from his desk. "Don't worry, Tony. I'll get a date."

"And I'm sure that she'll knock my socks off." Tony replied sarcastically.

Gibbs strode in and slapped Tony on the back of his head. "You're not here to talk, DiNozzo. The whole reason why you all are here is because you wouldn't shut up this week."

"You mean that we're here because of him?" Ziva cried incredulously.

"Yep. McGee, take this up to Vance." Gibbs tossed a stack of files onto McGee's desk on the way to his own.

McGee nodded and grabbed the files, leaving Tony alone with their over-caffeinated boss and angry ninja-like coworker. One quick look over his shoulder proved that Tony would be lucky to make it out of the building without Ziva murdering him for ruining her day.

* * *

He gulped as he climbed the stairs. He was heading up to the Director's office. Though it was far from the first time he was doing so, the thought of talking to the Director still made him nervous.

As McGee reached secretary's desk, a thought struck him. He was going to the Director's office. His _married_ Director. Maybe the reason why none of the advice he had gotten so far worked was because it had all come from single people. Maybe what he needed was advice from someone who had already navigated through the dating maze to reach a happy ending.

"Agent Gibbs sent me to give this to Director Vance." McGee told the secretary, gesturing to the files.

"He's on a conference call. Would you like to wait for him, or do you want me to give it to him for you?"

"I'll wait, thanks." McGee replied happily. This had to work. It was his last shot at advice.

After a few minutes of sitting in one of the uncomfortable waiting chairs, though, he began to doubt himself. Asking Gibbs, his boss, for dating advice was one thing. But asking Vance, who was his boss's boss, was completely different. The man ran the entire agency. This idea was insane.

The longer McGee sat in the uncomfortable chair, the more nervous he got. His heart was racing and he could feel himself starting to sweat. Finally, he stood up and started pacing.

"Excuse me, Agent McGee," the secretary interrupted McGee from his nervous pacing, "Director Vance will see you now."

McGee nodded his thanks at her and tried to discreetly wipe his sweaty hands on his pants. Then he grabbed files, took a deep breath, and walked into Vance's office.

He wanted to be ready this time. He had hesitated too much with Gibbs and Ducky. This time he was just going to come right out and ask.

"Gibbs told me to bring these to you." McGee said, handing the files to Vance. Then, quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, added, "And I also need your advice on how to get a date."

Vance looked up from the files to McGee. The ever-present toothpick in his mouth stopped moving. It was Vance's version of a raised eyebrow.

McGee swallowed again. He couldn't believe that he had actually just asked that. He could lose his job.

"That took some balls."

McGee stared at Vance in disbelief. That was not the response that he had been expecting. "Um, excuse me?"

Vance laughed. "I said that asking me that took some balls. I was expecting it, but I didn't think that you would actually do it."

"You were expecting this?"

"Of course I was. You think just because I'm the director I don't know about the non-work related things that you all do?"

McGee stayed silent. He had been hoping that Vance would just think that it had been a random question, and that he didn't really know anything.

A few seconds later, Vance confirmed McGee's fears. "Well, I do. I consider it part of my job. I know about the bet that you made with Agent DiNozzo and how you've been running around asking for advice from people ever since then."

"Well…do you have any to give me?" McGee said softly, suddenly feeling timid again.

"I'm your boss, not a matchmaker. I can't tell you how to get a date." Vance replied. "I will tell you that I met my wife at a basketball game, but you don't seem like much of a fan so, I don't think that that will help you much."

"No, it won't. Thanks anyway." McGee said disappointedly.

"I didn't say that I didn't have any advice to give you, Agent McGee."

McGee looked at Vance. This was it. His last chance.

"Here's my advice to you. Go downstairs, get back to work, and work hard for the rest of the day." Vance declared. "Then, maybe I'll forget that this ridiculous and somewhat inappropriate conversation ever happened."

McGee stared blankly at Vance. That was advice?

"Now, Agent McGee, before I decide to give you a formal reprimand slacking off and inappropriate conduct. Get out."

McGee nodded swiftly and left. Once he had gotten out of Vance's office, he broke into a jog. Now he had no date and no advice. He did, however, have an order to get back to work or risk a black mark on his spotless record. Now he was even more screwed than he had been before.

* * *

Vance shook his head as he watched McGee run from his office. That conversation had cleared up all the doubts that he had.

He walked over to his secretary and handed her a five dollar bill. "I've made my decision. There's no way that he's going to win this one. Put my money on DiNozzo."

* * *

**What did you think? Good? Bad? Terrible? **


	7. The Date

**Here it is. The end. And yes, it is up insanely late. Once again, I didn't like my original version so I rewrote the entire thing. I hope you enjoy it. **

* * *

Sunday

Valentine's Day

V-3 hours

McGee sat alone at his desk with his portable typewriter. Last night had been his last chance to get a date. He hadn't. In an attempt to cheer himself up, he made a midnight run to stock up on his favorite snacks and then drove to back to work, hoping that he would be able to make some progress with his story. After all, weren't some of the best artists tortured souls? McGee could relate after a week of miserable dating failures.

Unfortunately, he still couldn't make himself write. Sorrow didn't inspire him; it just made him depressed. He needed passion and contentedness to write. There was no way that he would be able to get anything done until after this stupid bet was over with…which would be in about three hours.

He sighed, pushed the typewriter away from him, and stretched his arms. He absently moved around the room, stopping to look at his coworkers' desks. It was kind of nice to be here without them around. Peace and quiet with no murders or angry bosses to deal with. A little slice of heaven.

As McGee passed Tony's desk, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He leaned over and picked it up. It was one of Tony's most coveted pictures: the one of Ziva in California in a tiny bikini. The one that she had ordered them to destroy multiple times. Tony must have really wanted to keep it if he had been willing to risk facing Ziva's wrath.

McGee quickly looked over at Ziva's desk, sure that she would somehow know that he was looking at the picture. She wasn't there, but he was so used to her sneaking up on him that he couldn't take any chances. Then he remembered the advice that Palmer had given him. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked back down at the picture in his hands.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. The person on the other end picked up on the second ring. "Hey, are you busy tonight…"

* * *

A few hours later, McGee walked into the fancy French restaurant alone. He quickly found Tony and sat down at the opposite side of the table.

Tony smirked at him "Where's you date, Probie? Or did you really not manage to get one at all."

McGee glared back at him. "She's running a little late, but she'll be here. Where's your date?" He asked, nodding at the empty seat next to Tony.

"Teresa's in the restroom, 'freshening up'."

"You're still dating Teresa? I'm impressed. I've never seen you stay interested in one woman for so long."

"Really, Probie? Why would I lose interest in Teresa. She's gorgeous, good in bed, and models. She's perfect."

"Why thank you, Tony." Teresa said as she returned to the table. She leaned over and gave him a kiss. "You're so sweet."

McGee smirked. She must not have heard the beginning of the sentence.

"So, how are you, Agent McGee? Tony's told me all about you."

McGee glared at Tony across the table. "What has he told you? I swear, I'm not really like that."

Teresa smiled and laughed. "Relax. It was all good. Just that you like MMORPG and computers."

"That's good?" Tony and McGee asked in unison.

She smiled again. "Are you kidding? That's great. In fact, MMORPGs are how I first got into modeling. I was the model for the princess in the advertising campaign of one of the originals. Of course, now that I have a full-time teaching job, I don't get to play as much as I'd like, put I still get a little action in."

"Wow. That's great." McGee said. He couldn't believe that Tony's girlfriend knew about, let alone liked MMORPGs. It wasn't that he didn't think that she could be, he just didn't think that Tony would be interested in anyone who was. Still, it couldn't hurt to make sure that she didn't just think that he was a computer geek. "I'm into other stuff too. I write in my spare time. I'm working on a sequel to the book that I got published last year."

Tony frowned. He hadn't known that about Teresa. It didn't change anything, but the conversation was taking away from his primary focus: embarrassing McGee. "Are you sure that your date is coming?" He asked in an attempt to break up McGee's and Teresa's bonding moment.

"Yes, I'm sure Tony. In fact, there she is right now."

All three of them looked up. Standing in the shadows at the door was a woman wearing a short, low-cut dress and dangly silver earrings that matched her heels. When she saw them, she stepped into the light.

Tony stopped breathing. It was Ziva.

McGee rose from his chair as she approached them. He pulled out her chair for her and she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tim."

McGee smiled at Tony, who was still in shock. He thought it was safe to say that he had won the bet. Now all he had to do was make it through dinner without embarrassing himself in front of his coworkers and Teresa.

He decided to start with introductions. "Teresa, this is Ziva. She works with us at NCIS."

"I remember you. You were there last week when I went to see Tony." Teresa said to Ziva. She held out her hand across the table. "How do you do?"

"I am very well, thanks." Ziva replied charmingly.

Across the table from her, Tony finally managed to catch his breath. "Are you really his date? How…?"

Ziva gave Tony a look. "The usual way, Tony. Tim asked me. I accepted."

Tony shook his head in disbelief. This was not happening. "Are you sure?"

"Yes Tony, I am sure."

"Excuse me." Tony said, rising from his chair. "I think I need some air."

"Um, Tony, it's the middle of February. It's freezing and there's a foot of snow outside." McGee pointed out.

Tony glared at him. "Then I'm going to the restroom. Excuse me."

McGee smiled nicely at Teresa, who looked confused about Tony's sudden change in mood. "Don't worry about him. He gets that way sometimes. I expect that he'll be even worse once Ziva finds out that he still has one of her bikini pictures…"

Ziva and Teresa both raised their eyebrows at him.

He shrugged apologetically. "Whoops. Guess that cat is out of the bag."

"He keeps pictures of you in a bikini?" Teresa asked furiously.

"I told him to destroy them." Ziva replied, equally angry. "I think that I need to go have a talk with him."

Teresa nodded. "I'm coming with you."

McGee smiled as the two very angry women walked towards the mens' room. He had definitely won the bet, and it looked like he was going to get revenge on Tony for torturing him this week too.

* * *

Tony leaned against the wall of the men's restroom. This was unbelievable. McGee had actually found a date that had made him jealous. Ziva. She was clever, pretty, and had insane ninja skills. He wasn't quite ready to admit it to himself, but he liked her much more than he did Teresa.

He sighed. It was going to be difficult to pretend that he was still interested in Teresa for the rest of the night, and even harder to pretend that he wasn't interested in Ziva. He was going to have to talk to Teresa about it. And, at some point, admit to McGee that he had won the bet.

As Tony walked out of the restroom, dreading what he was about to do, he saw Ziva and Teresa heading for him, both looking very, very angry. It didn't look like he was going to have to say much in this conversation…

* * *

Five minutes later, Ziva and Teresa returned to the table without Tony. Their explanation for his sudden absence was that he had "come down with an acute case of the stomach flu." McGee knew better. He had seen Tony running from the restaurant after loud and somewhat violent confrontation with the two women. Any pain he was feeling was coming from where Ziva had kicked him and Teresa had slapped him.

Ziva reached for her bag. "Thank you for the invitation, McGee, but I think that I will be leaving now."

"Of course. You've done a lot for me tonight. Thanks again." McGee replied to her. "Maybe we should all just call it a night."

"Actually, I'm hungry. It seems a shame to waste all this food." Teresa said, gesturing to the meal that had been served while she was busy breaking up with Tony. Then she shyly looked up at McGee. "I'd like to stay."

McGee stood in shock, not able to reply. Was Teresa asking him to stay and have dinner with her?

Ziva smiled and head-slapped him on her way out. He took that to mean 'Yes'.

"Um…okay, sure." He finally said. "The food looks really good."

Teresa beamed up at him. "Good. Now tell me about this book that you're writing…"

* * *

Two hours later, McGee left the restaurant feeling ecstatic. He couldn't believe that tonight had really happened. He had won the bet _and_ gotten revenge on Tony, who now no longer had a girlfriend. In her place he had an infuriated coworker.

McGee had also finally managed to find a date. She was a recently single woman who was smart, funny, loved MMORPG as much as he did and was equally devoted to her job. He and Teresa were going out to get drinks tomorrow evening. He couldn't wait.

McGee smiled. The whole thing made him feel like rushing home and writing something...something starring L. J. Tibbs, Tommy, Lisa, and the rest of their team.

This week had been worth it. He had received a lot of advice, bested Tony, gotten a date, and inspiration for his book.

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**Well, There you go. It's done, and mostly on time. Thanks for reading.**


End file.
